Sunday, June 17, 2012
still-sound 76. Forty
This is a large porcelain bowl I made in the style of Lucie Rie. I once read that if a potter wishes to make pots in a particular style, he must become the potter who makes those pots in that particular style. I'd like to make pots in the style of Lucie Rie. I suppose I need to become Lucie Rie.
I gave this bowl to my friend Franco for his fortieth birthday. I celebrated my fortieth birthday last month. Franco and Adam took me out to lunch at Son of a Gun on 3rd Street to celebrate. The food was even better than I expected. The salad with smoked trout surpassed my expectations and I've been trying to recreate the dish at home - in the same way I try to copy Lucie Rie. In neither case have I achieved the effortless perfection of the originals. I drank a whisky cocktail called Penicillin with the decadent meal. No one told me that the restaurant was decorated in a nautical theme. Not like Seafood Shanty - more subtle. There was a beautiful clipper ship drawn in gold on the front door.
When Franco turned 40 I told him, as someone who has been that age for a month, that it was fine. It feels like 39. It feels like 28. I really don't feel any differently. When I was a much younger man, I considered forty to be quite old. I don't feel old though.
My friend Laura gave me this beautiful glass vase as a birthday gift. It looks like a floating test tube. I placed a peony in it - these feathery flowers abound in June. She also gave me a pack of Hojicha tea. She bought the tea at Tortoise General Store in Venice.